Caroline

Caroline Lane, St Peters on Friday, 4 December 2020

Caroline runs parallel to May Street and has a lot of graffiti. It’s a backside alley lined with fences and factories. There is a gym and a poster printer. A broken model of an 18th-century ship is dumped outside one of the garage doors. Maybe it’s meant to be the HMS Endeavour?

A sketchy, black-and-white Spiderman rises above a geometrical graffiti. A paper sign says “Do not paint here”. At the corner of May Lane is a mural by Reubszz. When I look around towards St Peters station I see a construction site, a high building, almost finished. Just there I took a photo of a grey old house many years ago.

It’s hot today. What am I doing here?

Ghost Signs

Rose Lane, Darlington on Sunday, 8 November 2020

I had forgotten to look for Rose Lane after I found out a few months ago that Rose Street doesn’t exist anymore in Darlington.

I came past it recently by coincidence. It is a very small lane with an old brick factory building on one side. Through the wire mesh windows, I can see a courtyard with trees and plants. Some parts of the windows still have dusty, old pieces of frosted glass. Through one of them, I suddenly recognise the head of a female mannequin. It looks eerie, a bit like a person trapped in a cage.

People live in this building. Around the corner are two doors in bright colours. There still is the name of the factory in faded letters. Only a few of them are recognisable. A young woman with two little children has just arrived at one of the doors and is ringing the bell. It’s an old-fashioned one where you turn a metal knob, like winding up a clock.

On the other side of the lane is the Darlington Activity Club, a low brick building with tin rubbish bins in the courtyard. Looking across from here is another lane with yet another former factory at the corner. Here I can read quite clearly that it was called Blue Diamond and has a pale blue triangle painted on the brickwork.

Neighbourhood Watch

Flora Street, Mascot on Friday, 6 November 2020

There is nothing remarkable in this street. At the end of its cul-de-sac, a woman is unloading shopping bags from her SUV, taking them inside a house. An elderly couple is watching. Then she gets into her car to leave, greeting me in a friendly fashion as I walk by.

Something looks interesting about that tucked-away property. When I think she is already far away, I return. But no, she comes driving back and asks me why I am taking photos. I have to think fast. “Art project” doesn’t sound right this time. I say that I research architecture and record the different styles of houses - nothing about the people. She thought I was here on behalf of a neighbour’s grievance. In other words, they must have done something to cause a grievance to a neighbour. People who are suspicious of photographers always seem to have some agenda. 

Daphne, Rose, Ivy Street, Botany

In Daphne Street, they are building a row of new townhouses. One has a white Madonna and Child near the front steps. I walk past a few remnants of industry. A rustic-looking house contains Redelman Fabrics. In a front yard sits a container labelled ‘Hapag-Lloyd’, the North German shipping company I worked for in Hamburg many decades ago.

A huge empty lot alongside Rose Street is being prepared for the construction of yet another apartment block. I like how it looks at the moment. Hard to explain why. Maybe because of the white soil, or because it shows a side of places that were hidden for a long time. 

In Ivy Street are a preschool and a sewage pumping station. Builders are making a lot of noise in a house next door. Children are coming home from school.

Ethel

Ethel Street and Lane, Eastwood on Thursday, 5 November 2020

Ethel Street features mainly uniform-looking apartment blocks made of dark red brick. There used to be brickworks in Eastwood which explains the prevalence of this building material.

It’s raining heavily today and it’s cold. I had my doubts about even coming here but I was in the neighbourhood after having stayed with a friend in Dundas Valley. 

At the end of the street towards the railway tracks are a few shops, and a Korean grocery store at the corner. Fruit and vegetables are on display outside in boxes with handwritten labels above them. One says “Please DO NOT eat fruits on display”. This seems funny to me as it is above a box with pineapples. 

On the other side is a long, pale yellow building with a pub and a few shops, some empty. “First Fortune”, whatever it once promised, is no more. I venture out into the rain and into Ethel Lane, which looks sinister with its dark brick walls under the heavy clouds. A psychiatrist and a psychologist share premises. You enter through a narrow door under a tattered and faded canopy - rather what I’d imagine being the entrance of a cheap brothel.

It's really great to see you again

Frances Street, Randwick on Friday, 30 October 2020

Frances is one of the more majestic streets in Randwick. At the corner to Avoca Street is the old building of the Town Hall and on the other side the St Jude Anglican Church with its historic cemetery. I like that they let the grass and wildflowers grow high between the graves. The cemetery closes at 4 p.m., in 5 minutes, so I am a bit nervous about venturing too far in. For that reason, I didn’t inspect the newer-looking statue of three girls, which I saw from the street through the fence.

A bit further down is a park with a trampled lawn where people sit with their children after picking them up from school. There are a few mansions in this street. One is now a convention centre. Jacaranda trees are in blossom. The sky doesn’t know whether to be dark or friendly. Bus stops now display encouraging slogans: “Hello. It’s really great to see you again.” During lockdown other signs read: “Ask, are you ok?”

Several generations

Elizabeth Street and Lane, Lee Street, Ivy Street and Lane, Randwick on Thursday, 29 October 2020

Elizabeth Street has a music school. The sign reads “Music Is What Feelings Sound Like”. Two young women are loading lots of bottles of alcohol into a car parked out front.

Several generations of architecture come together in this street. Art Deco, 50’s style, Victorian, 21st century. A former garage has become a second-hand clothes shop.

Elizabeth Lane offers views of backyards, and a bit of urban grunge. 

Lee Street is on a hill with a view of the city. The area looks a bit like a country town with its unpaved lanes and grassy footpaths. There is a wooden gangway to one of the houses, like a bridge over a creek. Another house is bordered by a low, ancient-looking stone wall.

Sunlight shimmers through the leaves of Acacia trees.

Ivy Street

Ivy Lane

Rosemary's Windows

Crystal Street and Crystal Lane West, Petersham on Wednesday, 21 October 2020

Crystal Lane West has an old factory building which is now something fancy. A luxury car is just driving into the garage. It also has a 30s-style block of flats with a paved small courtyard, outdoor laundry, and washing lines. Some elaborate graffiti marks this lane, one with a huge mosquito. When I try to find out later if the mosquito is a logo for a particular graffiti artist, I come across this history: “Mosquito” was the name of an RAF combat aircraft also used by the Australian Air Force. On 2nd May 1945, one of these fighter planes disintegrated above Petersham. The pilots couldn’t save themselves as they were not high enough for their parachutes to open. One of the pilots landed tragically in the playground of the Petersham Public School. I wonder if the graffiti of the mosquito recalls this local event or if it’s an amazing coincidence.

I pass a car repair shop at the corner of Crystal Street. The wall bordering the yard shows a Bushell “ghost sign”, a remnant of a past commercial era. This section of the street has some empty shops. Among them, a harpsichord shop with a rusty banner alongside the awning, and a store that once sold Jackson cigarettes and Toblerone chocolate as the blue panels below the barred windows tell me. On the wall, a newer poster demands ‘Immediately Housing for the Homeless’. Mmh, good cause, but bad grammar. A bit further along is a Metropolitan Community Church with the LGBTQIA+ flag flying on its roof. On the other side is John While & Sons, “spring manufacturers established 1885”, now an apartment block. There are more small shops on that side; one identifies as an op shop by its display of secondhand clothes and knick-knacks visible behind the dark windows. This shop and all the others nearby are closed until further notice. 

Crystal Street, Petersham on Thursday, 7 January 2021

Today I start at the part of Crystal Street, where I once worked for the photo media artist Rosemary Laing in 2006/07. She had her live-in studio in an old, unconverted warehouse. It was very cold in winter there, in spite of portable heaters, hot cups of tea and ginger biscuits. The main entrance was in the courtyard. She eventually moved away, but the building remains the same, maybe still empty, the window frames unpainted. At the back of the yard is a workshop of some kind; a bathtub with plants outside the low building. The UGG sheepskin shop flanks the other side of the yard. At the street level are two empty shops. One still features faded posters and notes in the window: Sydney Folk Festival, Gulgong Folk Festival, ‘Rorts and Greed: Killing our Rivers’.

Back when I worked at Rosemary’s, the Hell’s Angels had leased or bought one of these shops for their clubhouse. They painted it red and fortified it with iron bars and security cameras. But this couldn’t stop a bomb from going off one night in June 2007, damaging the door and wall tiles. They moved out soon after that. 

On the other side of the road the dog-grooming shop ‘Wagging Tail’, which I could see from the room I worked in, now seems to have closed down. Crystal Street has a sign saying “Welcome to Cadigal-Wangal Country”. I don’t know if it was there before, or if I’m more aware of Aboriginal Country now.

A bit further along is the op shop which was closed when I passed by in October 2020. Now, three months later, dummies in colourful clothes are on display in the street outside. Further down is the Art Deco-style Petersham Town Hall. I learn from the internet that it has been a popular film location for movies and TV series such as ‘Strictly Ballroom’ and ‘A Place to Call Home’. 

Towards Stanmore Road opposite the Oxford Tavern is a Federation-style residential building with decorative green and cream timber features, and tiling on the entry paths. One section of it looks neglected. That part seems to be used as a boarding house. Another looks freshly renovated with shiny new street numbers.

Where glass was made

Crystal Street, Waterloo on Monday, 19 October 2020

This is a new street in the big apartment complex which was built on the grounds of the former Australian Glass Manufacturers. It’s more than a complex, almost a suburb in itself with its own streets, parks and shopping centres. The first development started around 2003 and it has continuously grown since then.

I pass the slick facade of the ‘Orange Supermarket’, an Asian grocery store. The interior manages to look as if it is in an old Asian quarter and the prices are low. In the middle of the street is a small park with a water basin from which fountains of water emerge and benches are on each side. People are sitting and reading or having lunch or enjoying the water display. The trees are already quite high and give shade. There are lots of cafés and restaurants and more benches and palm trees lining the street in the pedestrian part. People sit around, meeting for a chat. It’s really quite nice here, even though I don’t like the buildings. At the end of the street is Coles Supermarket. 

Far Horizons

Morgan Avenue, Matraville on Thursday, 15 October 2020

I cannot find Morgan Avenue. I am already at the roundabout at La Perouse where I eat my sandwich, sitting on a bench. It is very windy. I turn the navigator on to find a petrol station and make another attempt to locate this street. It leads me through an area where trucks come thundering out of yards without stopping to look left or right. Finally, the navigator takes me into the Botany Cemetery. From here I can see the bay where Captain Cook first landed in Kamay (Botany Bay) on the fateful day of 29 April 1770.

I find it unsettling to be guided to a street in a graveyard. I used to like cemeteries, reading the inscriptions on the stones and guessing about the lives of the people buried. Today it makes me sad. The inscriptions on the headstones speak of tragedies. Here lies a two-year-old boy and his mother who died only one month later. Somewhere else a young man is dearly missed. I think I am too old to enjoy cemeteries.

A car arrives, and a middle-aged man gets out with a watering can. Most graves here don’t have living plants. I am curious about who he is visiting. When he has gone, I find the grave easily. It has a rosebush, the water droplets are still on the petals. The woman remembered on the stone died old in 1986. I am touched by this dedication.

Many of the graves have no one who cares for them anymore. They are caved in, the stone plates broken into pieces, covered with lichen.

School children walk by on a path outside.

Lola and the sea

Lola Road, Dover Heights on Friday, 9 October 2020

Lola Road ends at a park called Raleigh Reserve and a cliff overlooking the ocean. The park is just a stretch of mangy grass with a tree in the middle, but the view over the wide open sea is amazing. There are different styles of houses, big and small. I walk past a cute bungalow with three chairs and a table on the verandah. Just when I wondered why people don’t use their outdoor settings, a white Spitz appears from behind the house and an old man with a teacup and a book in his hands follows. 

The girls have taken over

Leslie Street, Tempe on Sunday, 4 October 2020

In the days this street was named, Leslie was known as a male name, while the female version was Lesley. But in the meantime, this distinction has been overturned. It sounds the same anyway. And so I am here in this cozy street. I hope all the neighbours like each other because it’s the kind of environment where they should. I feel that most small cul-de-sac streets have this ambience of privacy. Because you can’t drive through, there is no reason for anyone to go there who is not connected in some way to the residents. Except for me, of course. 

The only person I see is a young man in his driveway, loading a small truck with witches’ hats and whatever other barricades. A trailer is parked in the street, stacked up with the same things. A sign says it’s a traffic management business.

The weird and the beautiful

Margaret Street, North Sydney on Monday, 28 September 2020

This street looks like a walkway in a park, going uphill between trees and bushes. First, there are some sandstone houses, a small art deco block of flats and a car mechanic workshop hidden away in a recess. Then steps are going up high to the next level. Halfway is a small lawn with a bench under trees and on the other side a sprawling building with walls and towers like a fortress. Some renovation work is in progress. They are putting in shiny corrugated aluminium roofs that clash with the medieval theme. A man working on the site asks me if I got lost. In turn, I ask him if he is the owner of this building, seeing that he looks a bit older than the average construction worker.

“No, I wished”, he answers. “You wished? It’s rather weird.” “Yeah, it is a bit. It has been here for 40 years.”

Chomsky Knows

Lilian Fowler Place, Marrickville on Saturday, 26 September 2020

It’s rare to find a street in Sydney named after a woman in history for her own merit and not because she was the wife or daughter of someone. Or at least it’s rare that the street has the full name. Lilian Fowler was the mayor of Newtown in the 1930s and the first female mayor in Australia. 

The street forms an oval, lined with small workshops and offices. Today, on a Saturday, most of them are closed but there is some activity. 

On a roller door, I read “Chomsky Knows”. This seems to be rather deep and meaningful. Noam Chomsky is a linguist, historian and social critic and his ideas are said to be highly influential in the anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist movements. On the next wall, I am told that “Life Stinks”. 

There are two caravans parked in this street. One is the kind used for selling food in the street, like Harry’s Café de Wheels in Woolloomooloo. There is a small passage at the end with graffiti on the walls, and rubbish bins full of spray paint cans. It leads to Sydney Steel Road which has the famous graffiti wall where people are allowed to paint.

Three men with cameras are photographing and filming a woman in black sports gear and neon yellow trainers. She’s sitting against the wall and laughing all the time. On the other side is a huge fenced-in site with containers. I learn later that it is the building site for the new Metro. I don’t remember what was there before. Maybe a steel factory, hence the name. It’s strange how you can’t remember things, once they are gone. 

Lorna

Lorna Lane, Stanmore on Thursday, 24 September 2020

There are a lot of lanes in Stanmore. Lorna Lane is one of them. It’s not, as I first thought, because there were many back street factories, like in Lilyfield and Rozelle. Stanmore mainly started from big farming estates granted to settlers in the early days of the Colony. Over time it developed into a place where affluent working people would move to bigger houses, away from the overcrowded inner suburbs.

Today I find a few discarded things, thoughtfully arranged for people who might need these items: a lamp, an outdated TV table with drawers for the video player and cassettes, and some crockery neatly stacked. There is a tent in its bag. I am tempted in case I’ll go on a camping trip again. But I leave it, too much worry about cleaning and disinfecting. In another lane are some thick-skinned lemons on the ground which fell over the fence. I leave them too.

There is a lot of renovation happening in the area. It seems to be a sign of these times. They say home improvement purchases have increased. Bunnings is laughing.

Visionaries

Una Street, Redfern on Saturday, 19 September 2020

I’m looking for Una Street. It doesn’t seem to exist. Even though my phone map is trying to get me there with its pulsating dot. I’m at the corner of Regent Place and Lawson Square where a blue building stood empty for decades, now finally demolished. An apartment block nearby has been here for at least twenty years as far as I remember. Behind is a path with no name, maybe that was Una Street once? When I walk around the block, I see a wig shop. It is closed, maybe forever. This small area is like a peninsular between two major roads with roaring traffic. Doesn’t seem to be a good spot for a speciality store. The window display is stacked with mannequin heads wearing wigs of different hairstyles and colours. They all stare into the distance, or into the future, mouths set defiantly. It doesn’t seem good what they are seeing.

Rocky Shores

Undine Street, Maroubra on Friday, 11 September 2020

This street runs steeply downhill towards the ocean and ends at a promenade above a rocky shore. At the corner is a pretty home with stained glass windows and a swimming pool at the front, facing the sea. The view is spectacular. It’s sunny and windy today.

Some front gardens have low-growing yellow or orange flowers with thick, fleshy leaves, which only grow on the sandy ground near the ocean. They are closing their petals early for the night while the sun is still out, at least two hours before dusk. Beyond the fence of a property is an orange variety of this flower in a rock bed. Someone has written a warning on an ugly cardboard box sitting next to it: “Do not pick the flowers”. It seems to defeat the purpose.

I walk along the path for some time until I see Maroubra beach in the distance. 

Dark Clouds

Marion Street, Bankstown on Sunday, 6 September 2020

At one end of Marion Street is the Bankstown airport for small planes and helicopters. It has its own set of streets and street names. It is Sunday and cloudy. The airport is empty.

I was never here before, but I guess it would normally be very busy on a Sunday. There are tourist flights on offer, flying lessons and other things, but everything is shut. Some people are around, but few and far between. A couple of small planes are taking off, and a helicopter hovers above the airfield otherwise is silence.

I read on a banner that it’s the 80th birthday of the airport this year. Maybe they would have had celebrations with stalls and lots of people. It’s sad. Dark clouds are hanging over deserted buildings.

The other end of Marion Street finishes at the town centre at City Plaza. It's deserted. The centre looks as if a big child has taken pieces from different sets of building toys and placed them haphazardly here and there.

In the meantime, the sun has come out, and some trees show their first white blossoms on leafless branches. Elsewhere, I have noticed tiny buds on the plane trees. The Bankstown hotel has pretty chairs and tables under umbrellas. Two men are sitting outside. When I return from my little tour around town, there is no one.

Bankstown had COVID-19 cases recently and was declared a hot spot, so I had put off going here for this reason. But this is quite a while ago. I don’t think there is any danger in walking through the empty streets. I am not going inside to eat or drink or buy anything anywhere.

Just when you don’t want to get into contact with strangers a man stops near me. “Excuse me, my name is Bob and what is yours?”

I guess he's from an African country, but I am not informed enough to know which one. I tell him my name and he asks if I am from around here. I say, “No, actually from further away. I’m just about to return.” He thinks I’m beautiful. I thank him for his nice words and start to leave. Then he wants my telephone number, but I decline. He accepts the refusal gracefully.

Always was, always will be

Adina Avenue, La Perouse,  31 August 2020

It is amazing how Sydney is blessed with so many beautiful shores and beaches without having to travel very far from the centre. Adina Avenue is on a hill, overlooking Botany Bay.

The area is named after the French Comte La Pérouse who landed here in 1788.

I read that the original name was Gooriwal, and the traditional custodians were the Kameygal people.

The first thing I notice is an old timber church, fenced in for restoration. On the fence banners, it says ‘This Church Restoration priority belongs to the Elders, who have expressed their desire to restore the Church to provide a space for healing and fostering strong social cohesion.’ I learn later that this was an Evangelical Mission Church, significant to the Aboriginal community of La Perouse as it had been a form of protection for the Aboriginal people of the area from the government’s policy of child-taking.

At the corner of Adina Avenue and Goolagong Place is a weathered community board containing a notice in faded handwriting: ‘La Perouse Discreet Aboriginal Community. Residents only.’ Down the hill from here is a bungalow. On the low brick wall surrounding it, are written the words ‘Bidjigal Land’.

The resistance leader Pemulwuy, who fought against the British occupation in the 1790s, lived in this area. I read that he belonged to the Bidjigal people who resided in Toongabbie and Parramatta.

The white settlers found the area too rough for living, but it attracted city dwellers for day trips, especially when a tram line was created in 1902. The Aboriginal residents used this fact to create a tourist industry, presenting a snake man show and selling boomerangs and ornaments made from sea shells. The most prominent shellwork artist was Emma Timbery also known as “Queen of La Perouse” or “Queen Emma”. She is the great-grandmother of Esme Timbery who is known for her shellwork of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

During the Depression in 1929, hundreds of unemployed people moved out to La Perouse and set up camp in “Happy Valley”. Families lived in shacks made from scavenged wood, corrugated iron, flour bags and cardboard. There was no electricity or running water.

European and indigenous people lived together there. Stories tell that there was a great community spirit despite the hardships.

The Aboriginal community of La Perouse is the only one in the Sydney region that held on to its territory until today against all adversaries and threats of relocation. Land rights were finally obtained in 1984.

Phoenix

Jennifer Street, Little Bay, 31 August 2020

This street has residential houses on one side, the Botany National Park and a golf course on the other. There is a boardwalk that leads through an area that was created for the regeneration of a plant community named ‘Banksia Scrub.’ Sadly, here too was a fire and most of the scrub has burned down, new fern growing underneath the blackened branches of short trees and bushes. 

At the end is a road dividing the golf course and I walk along a little way. It’s very windy, I have to brace myself against it. I veer off on a path that goes a bit uphill. From here I can see the undulating landscape of the golf course and the ocean on the horizon.

I think, I am looking towards the side of Little Bay, where Christo and Jeanne-Claude wrapped the coast in 1969. 

The irony of history

Margaret Place, Paddington on Wednesday, 26 August 2020

Margaret is a tiny lane hidden away in an old part of Paddington. There are many sandstone and timber houses in the neighbourhood. The lane is narrow, just a footpath with a row of 3 small cottages with a wall at the end. Outside are plants and a table and chairs. I don’t dare to go too far inside, it feels private. One door is open. The interior is bright, thanks to installed skylights and probably a glassed verandah door at the back. In the past, it must have been very dark in these houses. By 1900 Sydney’s population had grown significantly and Paddington had turned into a slum. The rows of terraces were overcrowded, there was no sewerage. These days the area is charming with its narrow streets in the sunlight. It’s ironic how these squalid places have turned into prime real estate.

The neighbourhood